


somewhere only we know

by wingedcastielpie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends AU, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Orphan! Katsuki Yuuri, Orphan! Victor Nikiforov, Orphans AU, Pining, Victor's forgetfulness got in the way, Yuuri and Victor are still skaters here though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedcastielpie/pseuds/wingedcastielpie
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov were orphans. They formed a bond when they were younger, and they were inseparable for four years. They slept on the same bed, ate and shared the same meals. They played the same games, and cried with each other. They danced together, on the bed, on the ground, and on the ice.They only had each other. Until one day, Victor left, and Yuuri was left alone to his own devices, forever looking for him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is my first YOI fic, so please be kind to me! ;; Anyway, this is the orphans AU no one asked for, but I did write it anyway (because it wouldn't stop bugging me). Hope you enjoy this!
> 
> And side note, Victor's called as "Noelle" in the orphanage. He would later on be called "Victor" because of reasons~
> 
> Also, I recommend you to listen to Lily Allen's version of "Somewhere Only We Know" while reading to the first chapter! You can click on the lyrics right before "i." to go straight to the youtube link. :)

[ **I came across a fallen tree** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mer6X7nOY_o)  
**[ I felt the branches of it looking at me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mer6X7nOY_o) **  
**[ Is this the place we used to love?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mer6X7nOY_o) **

 

**i.**

 

Winter nights were harsh in its anger, and graceful in appearance. In retrospect and perspective of an average onlooker, it might seem wonderful, magical and cheerful. After all, the complementary way of red and green on the white wetness of the ice signified the Christmas season. The bells were ringing in a nearby church, and there were a few people passed by with the songs of Nativity under their breath, and hands filled with the promise of gifts.

 

Anyone but the frail, young woman carrying a bundle in her arms. No songs of merriness came from her, but in her arms was the greatest treasure that has blessed upon her.

 

A child.

 

It was tragic, how in that time of the year, people were celebrating and were being called to unite with their loved ones from across the world, even if it was through snail mails, or a quick phone call using the hotline. And yet, the woman, a Japanese one at that, wondered around with tears dusting her face, and frost at the tip of her lashes.

 

She was nearing the orphanage, and she denied until the very last minute. If only they— her husband and her— had enough money to support one more child. They were both in a foreign country, with one small child to feed, and a season too cold and harsh for their body.

 

She trudged along, her white, worn-out sneakers frayed at the ends. Repetitive was the cycle for everyone she encountered. Continuous laughter, mindless chatter, simply and plain happiness that they all seemed to take granted of.

 

 _I would have been the same,_ she thought as she shakily went up the stairs of the old, brick building.  _Do not blame them for not experiencing your woes._

 

The cold wind blew again, and she faced her back to it. Anything to protect the baby.

 

The embossed **42** stood out nicely against the wooden door. Beneath the door came the warmth, where the yellow light was from, and where a nice chimney would surely be roasting. Children are sensitive to sudden environmental changes, after all. One wrong inhalation, and they’d have to be immediately brought the hospital.

 

Her arms tightened around her child. She looked at him with all the looks that a grieving and sorrowful mother had. After all... who knows what would happen next? If there was one thing she learned from being poor, it was that tomorrow never brought the expected.

 

She raised her hand and used the brass knocker to call.

 

She looked down one more time.

 

And the door opened.

 

“Oh! Hello, there!”

 

She kept looking at the baby. In the distance, she can hear the twinkle of gold chimes.  _Yuuri,_ she thought. _Katsuki Yuuri._

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“Oh… Uhm,”

 

A brunette and stern looking woman opened the door. She was already in her night gown, and right behind her legs was a two- year old child with long white hair.

 

He was beautiful, and he carried the wordless innocence children have.

 

“Yes? How may I help you?”

 

Suddenly feeling self- conscious of her appearance, she shied away from the light and tried hiding her face in her hat and scarf. She couldn’t bare for this woman to remember her face, and forever brand her as the _mother of Yuuri._  She loathed it.

 

“I…” How should she say this? She has— she has never really talked to anyone about this besides her husband. How exactly do you speak in this occasion? Another thing she hated: anxiety. She never got to anywhere with it hanging over her shoulder. And how do you explain to a stranger that you’re leaving your son in her hands?

 

But, no. Yuuri needed her that time. She would talk.

 

“He— He name is Yuuri.” She talked in broken English. “He— He one months.”

 

“One?!” The brunette woman exclaimed in disbelief, as she hugged her robe tighter around her. Good heavens, why would anyone expose her child to such brutal weather? “Come inside! It wouldn’t be very nice for the both of you!”

 

 _How genuine,_ the Japanese young woman thought as she trembled in a new found reason. It wasn’t just the coldness around her that affected her, but the coldness she felt deep within her heart, as well. _This is what my Yuuri needed the most. I don’t know…_

__

“No, no need,” she sniffed as water droplets slipped from her brown, heartbroken eyes. “He, he need care. I—”

 

She wearily looked at the sleeping Yuuri again. _I don’t know when, or how… But, we’ll see each other again. And we’ll take care of you, just like the way we should._

__

“I—We can not give that. We don’t have anything.”

 

The warm light shifted, and the fair child behind the brunette peered over and saw her crying. His eyes were blue, pale like the snowflakes that melted on her jacket. They were watchful, filled with intensity and unanswerable questions. The brunette pet his head, and took a look at the bundle. 

 

Yuuri's eyes were open, and she fell in love with him. They were soulful, and curious at the same time. It was odd how she felt at peace staring at him, and having the urge to hold him dearest to her heart.

 

 _Such a poor, poor, lost winter child._ She thought as the Japanese lady slowly placed him—Yuuri— in her arms. _They'd die for you._

As if sensing the sudden change in his life, he whipped his head towards his mother and cried. His arms tucked out of his bundle and tried reaching out to his mother. She resisted the sudden drive to rock back-and-forth to comfort the crying child, and curled her extended fingers into the cloth.

 

“Please take care of him. I love him.” She looked up, and saw the young lady hastily brushing away her tears as she held her hat as the cold December wind blew harshly. 

__

Later that night, the wooden door closed. 

 

Winter nights were harsh in its anger, and graceful in appearance. A lone sob from a lone mother showed the onlookers how.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> SCREAM WITH ME on my tumblr: wingedcastielpie.tumblr.com


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